


Glossy Eyes

by Letsmakeittonight



Category: Oasis (Band)
Genre: Angsty leem, Boner-jokes, M/M, Matching-bracelets-feels, Messy..., Noel is a bit of a dick isn't he
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-13 19:13:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11191593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Letsmakeittonight/pseuds/Letsmakeittonight
Summary: With all you are. Wherever you go. Right beside you, I will walk.





	Glossy Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> new holiday fic that took embarrassingly long time to write. for a change it sort of got a (poor) plot...
> 
> thanks to all who read my stuff & (as always) julia who came up with this idea and inspired me so MUCH. i probably should gift this whole account to you since you always cope with me writing you in caps while not being able to sleep bcus of fic emotions. 
> 
> anyway enjoy and if someone with photoshop skills sees this pls photoshop liam with a beret pls and thank you. 
> 
> (liam is too soft ok beware)

I

 

Inside Liam, past all the skin and the bones and everything he’s trying to be, there’s a war. Inside his heart and inside his mind, two different parts of him yell and claw at each other. One of them, for example, is impossibly ready for its nineteenth birthday, fantasies about ﬂirtatious girls before bed and doesn't get warm in the chest every time big brother’s name is mentioned. The ﬁrst one is naive and scared and wants to be normal and doesn't like when the brain is full of messy thoughts. The other part is unpredictable and sparks and burns inside him. It sits by the phone at night until the birds start singing outside waiting for a call that never comes. The other part hates being alone and doesn't want to be alone, ever. The other life can’t come without thinking of a certain pair of blue eyes and guitar-torn ﬁngertips.

 

There is a war inside Liam and he knows that it’s an endless one. He also knows he’s always happier when the second part is winning and when he’s Noel’s and Noel’s only. It will stay with him until the end of time. He doesn't mind, though. Not one bit.

 

Everything is grey that day. The sky, conﬂating with the crowd of people on the train station until Liam’s surroundings disappear into nothing but a colorless blur. His heart beats in his chest, steady and hard. The blood hits the tops of his ﬁngers in an even rhythm and he can picture the red inside him. One time Noel bit his collarbone and three tiny droplets of ruby penetrated his skin and made a stain on Noel’s white shirt. Liam remember he felt a hint of nausea when he realised their blood was in fact the same and the ﬁrst part inside him was winning even if he didn't want to. Today, when he sees Noel with his familiar frown and navy jacket with the fur collar which breaks that smudged greyness he knows that the war is calm and safely hidden in the back of his mind. The top of his ears get ﬂushed when the light hits Noel’s mop of hair and he ﬁnds himself thinking he's sort of beautiful. Noel is a frustrating but absolutely vital dot of colour in his clouded existence.

 

When Noel sees him, his eyes light up. It’s barely visible and there’s probably not a lot of other people except Liam who would notice but he does. A small glimt that glitters like a star before Noel shakes it off and the blue returns to its usual cold and collected shade. His eyebrows still hang low on his face, mouth in a sulky position, taking lazy and almost irritated drags from a half-smoked cigarette.

 

“Look who it is” Noel smirks when he stops in front of him. Even if Liam ﬁnally has managed to get taller than his older brother, he still feels small when standing facing him like this. As if Noel is towering above him and Liam is just a kid that wants to be hold by the hand and guided through life. He wouldn't mind having Noel’s hand in his own right now.

 

"Changed your mind?" Liam asks him and kind of wants them to hug. It’s been 216 hours since they last kissed. 408 hours since Noel was hot and hard inside him. 1440 hours since he told him he loved him. Liam doesn't know how many more hours he can wait until he bursts. He was sure he was going to do that when Noel went away and left him without any physical touch (at least from the only person that matters) for a whole year. After a late-night phone call with a drunk Noel on the other line that wouldn't say he loved him he literally felt like all of his intestines and bones would just fall into a useless heap there on the white kitchen floor. He suppose his heart wouldn't be in the pile though, it sits in Noel, the bastard.

 

“There you go, kid” Noel gets two tickets out of his jacket pocket and hands one to Liam. It means more to him than Noel could ever imagine. Noel called him yesterday when he laid in bed and was about to sleep. He had told him to pack a bag and meet him the next afternoon because he was going to Paris and Liam was coming with him. The younger had laughed at ﬁrst because that’s a natural reaction when Noel calls you at 1AM and asks you if you want to go to the city of love with him.

 

“Great” Liam holds it in his hand, his thumb dragging over the letters forming the words of their planned destination. Paris. The word still feels weird on his tongue.

 

“That’s thirty quid, then” Noel clears his throat and holds out his hand, palm open and Liam shoots his head up.

 

“Really? Fuck’s sake, I-”

 

“Or maybe you want to pay with something else, eh?” Noel pushes his tongue against the inside of his cheek and pulls Liam’s bottom lip down with his thumb. Liam realises he’s taking the piss and he smacks Noel’s hand away.

 

“Get fucked, you prick. I’m not some fucking-” he’s about to say slut but closes his mouth because he can imagine what comeback Noel would have in store for that. Noel had used that word against him once when Liam had sucked him off in the alley behind a pub where the Inspirals had a gig. Liam remembers that the music still could be heard dully from the inside and that there had been mud on his jeans and that Noel had been holding a tight grip on his hair. At points it felt like he would pull strands from the roots. He wouldn't mind.

 

The collar of his shirt had gotten wet from dripping saliva and his heart had been jumping hard against his chest from the knowledge that the crew would probably come looking for his brother at any minute. When Noel came, Liam had moaned and swallowed and that’s when Noel had used it. Of course Liam made a fuss about it, but secretly, really, truthfully, that second part of him had liked it. Quite a lot. Actually, skip the quite.

 

“Jesus, isn’t it too early for such a dirty mouth, Liam?” Noel smirks at him and starts to walk and Liam follows him with his hands in his pockets.

 

“’s never too early.”

 

“Remember we used to go to church back in the day?” Noel suddenly says

 

“You hated that.”

 

“You didn’t.”

 

”No, I was alright with it, me.” Liam shrugs and it’s true. When Noel was old enough to run the streets, Sundays became one of the few times of the week where he actually got to sit shoulder to shoulder with his big brother. Also, Noel looked sweet in neat hair. He really did.

 

“You are all the seven deadly sins personiﬁed through, aren’t you?”

 

“You like that.”

 

Noel puts an arm around Liam’s waist at that, hand a bit too low on the back to be considered brotherly, but no one notices, anyway.

 

“Guess it’s a bit of the charm.”

 

His ﬁngertips brushes against the edge of Liam’s boxers which sticks up over the hem of the jeans under his shirt.

 

“Totally, man.”

 

Theoretically, Liam thinks, no one would care to look up from their feet or their newspapers and pay attention if Noel slipped his hand lower and grabbed his arse with that warm hand through his pants. His knees always felt like melting ice cream whenever Noel did that, even if it was necessary to fake annoyance and shove him roughly in the shoulder.

Noel throws his cigarette to the ground and steps on it with his foot before they enter the train. When they sit down Liam pulls his jacket off over his head, messing up all the work he laid in the bathroom this morning to pull the strands of hair right. Just under the edge of Liam’s Beatles-tee, Noel sees ﬁve ﬁnger-shaped bruises on his skin which is slowly fading into a shade of yellow. He swallows hard and Liam looks up at him from under his fringe.

 

“Is that my work?” he makes an attempt to a chuckle and nods towards his little brother’s upper arm. Liam brushes them with his ﬁngertips, presses at them with his thumb. Noel wishes he could stop.

 

“Yeah, reminding me of what a cunt you are every time I look into the mirror, don’t they?” Liam laughs as if it was funny and ﬁnally lets his arms hang loose at his sides.

 

“I am sorry.” Noel mumbles and the train leaves the station. It sounds tired as it works its way over the rails.

 

“You’re not.” Liam wrinkles his nose, leans back in the seat, legs spread, hands on knees.

 

“You did sort of deserve it.”

 

“What the fuck did I even do?”

 

“You threw up all over my bloody carpet” Liam remembers now, he had gotten all Noel-sick with longing while out drinking with his mates, stumbling through the dark apartment-areas until he found himself in front of Noel’s door, the door with his brother’s name next to another name that shouldn't be there. It should be his own.

 

“I was drunk.” Liam snorts, that’s his favourite excuse and it leaves his mouth at least once a week. It’s a valid one, though, according to himself at least.

 

“Really?” Liam hates it when Noel is sarcastic, makes him feel like a child.

 

“I did apologize.” the crooked eyebrows are there for a reason, the night ended sweetly with Liam’s nose digging into the lower part of Noel’s stomach. That same stomach does a slight ﬂip when Noel replays the event in his head.

 

“It costed me sixty pounds to get it cleaned. Louise was off her tits about it as well.” her name still makes Liam’s lungs itch and Noel knows this.

 

“Don’t you fucking deny that was the best orgasm you’d had for ages.” Liam snorts and an old lady looks up from her book and stares at them as if they were two ghosts. Liam smiles at her, teeth and all. Noel thinks the lady looks like she would be in good use of some fresh air.

 

“Shut up.” Noel mutters, ignoring the way Liam is biting his lip.

 

“It was the tongue, wasn't it? It was good.” Liam was pretty sure it was.

 

“Alright, alright.”

 

“Can’t you just sleep for a bit?”

 

“Am I really such a pain in the arse?”

 

“You have no idea.”

 

Liam rests his head on Noel’s shoulder. First he bites on the edge of his jacket. Then he bites on Noel’s skin. Noel has shaved this morning, Liam sees, his skin is soft and slightly pickled red at some places.

 

“Stop.” Noel forces himself to push his little brother away and Liam pouts. He strokes Noel’s cheek with a ﬁngertip. Eyes on his lips.

 

“We haven't kissed for days and days and days man.” he whispers and Noel coughs. It’s a more discrete way of telling Liam ‘not here, not now’. Not whatever, in Liam’s opinion. Nonetheless Noel pecks his ear, quick and dry but Liam sighs like it was a gift. He closes his eyes and turns his nose into Noel’s neck.

 

“Tell me one of those stories from your groupie days.” he asks. Noel clenches his ﬁst involuntarily and Liam snuggles up closer to him.

 

”Sorry, roadie, was it?”

 

II

 

The station is crowded and warm, the sky here is innocently blue and full of ﬂuffy white. In the horizon Liam can get a glimpse of light orange and warm pink as the evening comes closer and Noel’s ﬁngers touches his wrist. When Liam looks down at their hands, he sees Noel is wearing his bracelet again. The corners of his mouth raises upwards and there’s something fuzzy in his stomach. He throws his arm around Noel’s shoulder as they walk.

 

“I wanna get drunk.”

 

“Can we at least get to the hotel ﬁrst?”

 

“Yeah, I hope you booked the honeymoon suite, man.”

 

“You would like that, wouldn't you?”

 

“Mhm.”

 

“I have to buy some fags.” Noel turns them left and towards a small store with typical postcard-vibe. Liam grabs his hand and Noel lets him. They leave with a paper bag with beer and coke cans, chips and a navy beret that Liam insisted on buying. He wanted Noel to get a red one but that wasn't happening. Liam slipped a small dictionary into his pocket on the way out as well.

 

“You are such a bore, Noelie.” he whines. There’s pigeons ﬂying over their heads as they walk over a square.

 

“One of us wearing one of those stupid… things are enough.”

 

“They are called berets and they are cool.”

 

They ﬁnd the hotel after a while. It’s squeezed up in-between a restaurant and a shop full of wallets and gloves. The reception is small and got a chandelier in the ceiling, the crystals are moving slightly when the entry door opens and closes. Liam adjusts his backpack and looks through some brochures laying on a table, stuffs some of them into his pocket before he follows Noel. The girl sitting behind the desk has a long neck and red lipstick and greets them in french.

 

“Do you speak English?” Noel asks her with a smile, leaning on the counter and Liam notices a slight ﬂush spreading just above the girl’s shirt collar. He presses up against Noel from behind.

 

“Oh, sorry, yes, I do. Have you booked a room?”

 

“Yeah, Mr. Gallagher.” Noel answers and Liam snorts. She turns her head at him then.

 

“And you?”

 

“Liam, I mean, I’m also Mr. Gallagher, you see.”

 

“Oh, so you two are married?” the girl chuckles and her earrings dances when she looks from Noel to Liam and back again. It’s obviously a joke. Liam doesn't laugh. Noel does,though, with a nervous touch and afterwards he opens his mouth to respond, but Liam is faster.

 

”Yeah, course we are, aren’t we, Noelie?” he leans his head on Noel’s stiff shoulder and shows one of his rings to the receptionist who now looks a bit startled, pencil frozen in her hand.

 

“Then I guess you want a double-room?” she manages with a smile and her accent seems to break through even more this time. ‘Of course we fucking want’, Liam wants to say. He doesn't, though.

 

“Right.”

 

“Third ﬂoor, to the left.” She hands them a key.

 

“Thank you, love.”

 

Noel is red in the face. Liam loves it. He gets pulled towards the lift but manage to stop just before the doors open.

 

“Also, I almost forgot, it’s our anniversary tomorrow, yeah? Couldn't you be a darling and send up some champagne to our room?”

 

He barely hears the girl answering before Noel shoves him into the elevator with a hard shoulder before pressing the third button. His arm remain close to Liam’s face.

 

“What the fuck did you do that for?”

 

“Why not?”

 

“It’s not funny.”

 

“Don’t you want to be married to me, eh? Anyway, we got free booze, you should be happy.”

 

“Felt sorry for the bird.”

 

“No, you didn’t.”

 

“No, I didn’t.” Noel smiles now and the lift stops. Liam drags him out of it, to the right ﬁrst but then remembers and changes direction. The wallpaper is full of small red lilies and Liam can see a hint of mold in the upper corners. He dumps his backpack on the bed and pulls the curtains aside to get a view out the window. Noel opens a beer and comes standing next to him. It’s quiet. But a good kind of quiet. The quiet that Liam likes. Not the quiet where his head turns a mess and Noel just lays there saying nothing. When Liam wants to scream until his lungs pop. This is the silence where they just are. On the sofa, after a good fuck silence. ‘2AM listening to the same record for the third time’ silence. Noel pulls his head down on his shoulder. Liam breathes out.

 

III

 

The restaurant next to their hotel is a small one with striped awnings. It has three rickety tables outside and two speakers, one of them, which is broken, Noel hears, play some accordion-based music. Noel also notices everything on the menu costs over 10£ but Liam has already attracted the attention of a female waitress who shows them a table, so he doesn't say anything. There’s a lit candle in the middle. It feels way too much like a table for couples and Noel suddenly thinks about Lady and the Tramp. Liam would be Lady of course, with those lashes of his.

 

“Pretty one, wasn't she?” Liam says. Noel frowns. He opens the menu, it’s all in french. Gibberish language, as he assumes Liam would put it. He looks for some beer, with no luck.

 

“I guess.”

 

“Wonder what the french birds are like.” Liam ﬂicks his tongue, drags the tip over his front teeth. Looking like he belongs on fucking ﬁlm.

 

“Curious?”

 

“Or the french lads.”

 

“You ain’t taking any frenchmen to our room, I'm telling you,”

 

“Did you know they got much bigger dicks here? I read it somewhere me.”

 

“Read where, exactly?”

 

“Doesn't matter.”

 

“Well, my statement still remains.”

 

“Don’t worry, Noelie, I will settle with my grumpy Englishman.”

 

“Funny.”

 

They order wine – two glasses, because Noel knows how it went that time Liam was ﬁfteen and Noel brought him a bottle of cornershop wine and he drank half of the bottle in ﬁve minutes. He would rather not have his bed sheets full of vomit and tears tonight. Just full of Liam. They share some pasta. Liam orders two puddings in poor french. Noel doesn't care what it tastes like because Liam has put on _those_ eyes and his fringe is falling like _that_ and he pretends to be unaware while biting that lush bottom lip, but Noel doesn't buy it. Liam is totally aware and thriving.

 

”Can we leave?” Noel asks.

 

”Yeah, let’s leave, man.”

 

”Now.”

 

”Come.”

 

Liam is on him the second the lift doors are closing. Wet, eager, breathless. He grabs at Noel’s jacket, pulls him down the corridor, then further into the room, towards himself, towards that need. Noel smells of summer rain. His thumbs are pressing against Liam’s neck. Liam doesn't want to let go, he doesn't need to breathe: he could die now with Noel’s lips locked with his own. Noel pulls away ﬁrst, gasps for air. There is a string of saliva hanging in the air between them and Liam smiles. When Liam leans in again, it’s with more tongue. He tastes like red wine and caramelized sugar from the desert. They part and Liam pulls his shirt off. He’s been waiting forever for Noel to look at him like he looks at him now, his eyes follows Liam’s hands over his naked torso, down to his belt. The lights from the window makes the sweat on Liam’s ﬂushed cheeks glow. Noel reaches out to touch them gently.  

“Let me suck you off, yeah?” Liam asks, breathless. His eyes glitter. Noel fears that alone would be able to make him come. He takes a deep breath, it comes out as shaky. Noel nods. Then shakes his head. He needs to be inside. Liam understands. He takes Noel by the hand and pulls him to the bed. The tip of Noel’s tongue is wet and tickles as it draws a line of saliva from Liam’s Adam's apple, down over his chest between, his nipples, and down to his bellybutton. Noel thinks that he wants to have his tongue where Liam is, always. He makes Liam stand on his knees. Noel presses up behind him, sweaty skin clustering together, like stickers. He rips a lube package open with his teeth, gets it out and applies it where it’s needed.

 

“Hurry the fuck up” Liam almost bounces up and down. Noel bites his ear.

 

“Shut up.”

 

Liam whimpers at three digits.

 

“Fuck the ﬁngers.” He hisses as Noel bends them.

 

“No, you will regret that.”

 

“Noelll…” It’s almost a please and Noel gives in, lines himself up.

 

Every tiny cell in Liam’s body is burning with ebullience and he chews on his bottom lip until it’s numb and raw. Noel asks him if he’s ready in a breathy voice. Liam can’t answer because he knows his own voice would most likely crack. Noel’s wet tip is nudging against him and, fuck, he can feel himself opening up for him. Liam feels it as well. Feels that he’s almost there, that tingling spreading from his groin and the blurriness in front of his eyes.

 

It’s been so long, too long and this is one of the few things in the world he knows he could never live without.

 

“Liam.”

 

“Noel, I’m gonna-”

 

Liam pinches the skin on Noel’s arm, clenches his teeth and curls his toes, until his breath gets stuck in his throat. Noel pushes his cock all the way inside in one smooth, slow motion, nails tearing at the skin of Liam’s chest. And Liam comes with a sob, going limp in Noel’s arms. His body spasms one, two times and Noel groans surprised from the back of his throat.

 

“Jesus, Liam, I-”

 

Liam rolls his head back, panting.

 

“K-keep going.”

 

He feels boneless in Noel’s arms as the older keeps thrusting in and out, in and out. He nuzzles Noel’s neck. It burns, but he’s right where he wants to be. Noel ﬁnishes and pulls them down. Liam closes his eyes, feels how the inside of his thighs get wonderfully sticky as he waits for Noel to start laughing at him. Three minutes. There doesn't come any snide comment or a chuckle though, just a wet kiss to the side of his face. After a while Liam stumbles to the bathroom. Walking is a bit difﬁcult.  

Noel turns the lamp on his nightstand off and the room gets dark. Outside the window, there’s thousands of other lamp’s in other hotel rooms that are glowing and sounds of cars and drunk people passing by on the street. He hears the toilet ﬂushing and then the sound of Liam’s bare feet over the carpet. He moves fast and Noel knows that, inside the boy, even if he would never admit it himself, there’s still traces of his fright for the darkness. This bed, unlike their old ones in Burnage, doesn’t make a sound when Liam crawls up in it on his hands and knees. The thick duvet makes it feel like he’s walking on clouds.

 

“Noel? Are you sleeping?” he whispers as he moves his own pillow closer to his brother’s.

 

He knows Noel’s naked chest and familiar warmth is waiting for him there under the covers.

 

“No, come.” Liam lays himself down on the other side of the bed. The sheets are cold.

 

“I don’t mind if you…” Noel lifts his duvet up and Liam doesn't wait, he curls himself up beside him until he can feel the soft fabric of his brother’s boxershorts against his spine. Noel’s hand feels big and possessive against his stomach. He ﬁts there.

 

“It’s a big bed.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Would you rather have wanted two of them?”

 

“I would have you pressing up against me all night anyway, wouldn't I?”

 

“Prick.”

 

“You should be grateful, not everyone gets to have a pretty lad like me in their bed every night” Liam ﬁngers at one of Noel’s rings, wriggles his hips a bit.

 

“Don’t ﬂatter yourself.”

 

“You can’t lie to me, Noelie, I do feel your morning glory poking me whether you like it or not.”

 

“That would be a good name for a song.”

 

“What? Morning glory?”

 

“Or an album.”

 

“I will remember that, man.”

 

“Yeah, let’s sleep now.”

 

“What’s goodnight in French?”

 

“Wait, I’ll check.”

 

Liam bends over the edge of the bed, fetches the small book from the ﬂoor.

 

“ _Bonne nuit_.”

 

Liam falls asleep in seconds. He snores with his mouth open and throws his arm over half of Noel's face. Noel has his nose in his hair and stares at the ceiling. He has mastered the arts of ceiling-staring. He remembers how it looked like from his old bed, where he would lay awake until the early hours after leaving the warmth of a sleeping Liam on the other side of the room. There was a crack in the corner, small, but still visible. Sometimes all Noel wanted was for it to grow deeper and longer until the whole roof would just come down bashing his face in.  

Liam shifts with a small noise and turns his head so Noel sees his face. The fucker is smiling, breathing calmly. Noel wonders what he dreams about. Something making him content apparently. His body is hot against his own, like he’s boiling. Noel wants to open the window but doesn't dare to move. It feels impossible to close his eyes. His brain is spinning.

It all had gotten downhill when he joined the band. Liam’s presence in his life could no longer be blamed on brotherly obligations. They slept in the rehearsal room a lot, getting drunk and cuddling up on the old sofa. Louise always looked so sad when he had to explain why he missed dinner, missed the movie they had planned to watch, missed to pick her up from her job. Sometimes Noel thought she had found it a relief if he just told her he was cheating with another girl.

She had seen the advert in a magazine at the hairdresser. The Eiffel Tower, a couple, all very romantic and unrealistic. Four, no, ﬁve beers and handful of pleading kisses was what it took to convince Noel to buy tickets and book a hotel room and climb up the ladder to the attic and get their dusty traveling bags down. 

The fact that Liam probably would have convinced him with one single look and perhaps some batting eyelashes causes shame to prickle his skin. It was all supposed to be good. She blew it off two days before. Noel had yelled at her, she had thrown a shoe at him. She had shouted this, he had returned with that.

 

“You're out too late.” “You always forget.” “Get a fucking proper job.”

 

“Get the fuck away from him.” (As if he hadn't tried to the last ﬁve years of his life)

 

That’s when Noel left.

 

He still had two tickets in his wallet and a longing for vacation and a ﬁeld of view that didn't consist of identical brickwork houses and cloudy sky. And he couldn't get away from him. Didn't want to. So he called.

Liam wouldn't know. Liam doesn't know. Only, perhaps, he deserves to. Noel drags his thumb over Liam’s cheek. His brother is blissfully unaware. Noel falls asleep dreaming of a life where Liam could be his ﬁrst choice.

 

IV

 

They sleep until twelve and have morning sex as the sun ﬁnd its way into their room the following day. The curtains aren't pulled together because there are no neighbours to hide from and Liam lets his nails go loose on Noel’s back because there are no girlfriend who will question the marks.

Liam’s skin is pink when he returns from the shower. Noel hasn't moved from the bed, the duvets are cool. He looks at his wristwatch that lays on the nightstand.

“The game’s in an hour” he mumbles and stretches out on the bed, arms over his head. No one misses a Derby in the FA cup, whether you’re in Paris or not. Liam hums something as a response, dropping his towel, fetching a cigarette from the pocket of Noel’s wrinkly jeans on the ﬂoor.

Liam stands naked by the window. Smoking. Wet hair. A pretty arse. One might not notice when he was wearing those laddish jeans but now, Noel found himself not being able to stop staring. He sometimes silently thanked God that Liam preferred sleeping laying on his stomach. And that his hot blood made him independent from any duvets. That wouldn't ever leave his tongue, though. God forbid Liam knew. It’s pictures like that that keeps him awake at nights. Makes his cock strain against the fabric of his pyjamas lying there next to his girlfriend, trying to tell himself it’s her lacy underwear and perfume that does it but knowing it’s most deﬁnitely not. He subconsciously pull his palm over his face at the thought. Then Liam’s breath is on his ear.

 

“What do you want me to wear?”

 

Noel glances at him from under his ﬁngers.

 

“Really?”

 

“What? Just asking for your opinion, that’s all.” He’s frowning now, drops of wet stuck in his eyebrows.

 

“Preferably nothing,” Noel rolls over to his stomach, snatches the fag from Liam’s ﬁngers. The younger snorts and if he was that kind of person he would probably be blushing. He’s not, though.

 

“Fucking pervert,” he mumbles and Noel chuckles. Liam rummages around in his backpack, holds up a striped shirt.

 

“That suits your jackets, doesn't it?”

 

“Yeah, maybe.” Liam pulls it on followed by a pair of briefs.

 

Noel grabs him by the wrist, hard and Liam winces. He pulls him down roughly and kisses him. Both their mouths are open and Liam melts.

 

The pub lays by the channel. The wind feels like a warm hand caressing your cheek and the world is stuck in that fragile moment where the ﬂowers are about to burst out in bloom any second. It smells of freshly cut grass and the tables outside the coffee shops and restaurants are full. Noel gets them two beers, Liam ﬁnish his in four minutes. The foam gets stuck over his upper lip, reminding Noel of when Liam was little, drinking the milk from his weetabix bowl, proudly showing off his “moustache” to the remaining family members around the table. Noel knocks back the nostalgia and the weird feeling in his stomach as the game begins.

Usually Noel is embarrassed about Liam’s colorful insults and hooligan-like behaviour when watching football, but, this afternoon, he just puts his arm around him, happily accepting the kiss to his cheek when they score. He blames it on the french air. It goes well. 1-1. Until United scores in the eighty-seventh minute. Seven “fucks” escapes from Liam’s mouth, knuckles getting white as he clenches his glass in his hand. Some frenchmen cheer loudly from the bar and Liam glares at them, considers picking a ﬁght.

Noel senses the anger and pulls him out of the smokey space before he can go further. It’s raining when they go home. Liam rants and Noel sulks.  

Noel goes for a piss when they get back. Liam smokes another angry cigarette and presses the but out against his shoe. He stares at his bag. Bonehead’s red United shirt is pressed and folded down in the bottom of it. Liam frowns. He can’t even blame agreeing to the bet on intoxication. The trip across the water had made Bonehead even more amused by the whole thing, apparently ﬁnding it impossible that his team would lose, all the reds were equally big-headed, in Liam’s opinion.

 

_“Ask your dear brother to take a shot of you wearing it in front of the mighty tower, yeah? I can’t fucking wait.”_

 

Liam can picture the satisﬁed expression on Bonehead’s stupid face, which would most likely have been smashed in if Liam wasn't miles away from him. Liam pulls the bag to him with his foot, pulls the shirt out, considers setting ﬁre to the damn thing, but decides to put it on. He’s not weak, though. A bet is a bet. He doesn't even check which cunt’s name is written on the back. It’s too big. The fact that Noel will probably think it’s silly as fuck as well makes it all worse. He sighs, pulls at the red fabric with a almost-about-to-vomit-expression.

 

“What’s a bloody United fan doing in my room, eh? What have you done to our kid?” Noel has a tone of disbelief in his voice and Liam whips his head to look at him.

 

“We had a bet, Bonehead wants a pic because we fucking lost, alright, I didn’t-” Liam realizes he’s babbling and Noel interrupts.

 

“You didn't answer me, did you?”

 

“Fuck off, let’s just take the fucking picture and go to bed.”

 

“Shh, now.” Noel tuts and Liam leans back against the bed.

 

“It’s not funny, I swear I’m gonna rip his balls off.”

 

“You will have to pay for kicking us out of the cup like that, you know.”

 

“Noel, just-”

 

“No, no, I’m not taking any talking back from a red.” Noel bends down and cups his jaw tightly. Liam doesn't resist because now when Noel is close he can see how dilated his pupils are. And hear the heavy on his breathing.

 

“Fuck Untied.” the younger spits, reaching for Noel’s lips but his brother holds his face still. He squeezes Liam’s cheeks even harder together and grins amused when the younger’s lips is turned into a pout.

 

“That’s what you want me to do?” Noel pushes him down onto the carpet-covered ﬂoor, still standing on his feet. Liam swallows and kicks his shoes off, looking up at Noel towering above him. He stretches his arms out over his head and Noel goes down on his knees. He holds his breath as Noel lowers his pants and boxers to his knees. When he attempts to pull his shirt off, Noel smacks his thigh with no mercy. “No, you're keeping that on”

 

“Noel-”

 

“Shut the fuck up. Blame yourself.”

 

Noel kisses his inner thigh with a softness that doesn't reﬂect his barking orders and Liam curls his toes. Noel takes Liam’s member into his mouth and the boy almost squeals because Noel hasn't done that in ages. Liam reaches for his brother’s hair but Noel swats his hands away, licking around Liam’s head, tinkering with the shirt. Noel is all about roughness and teeth but Liam still gasps every time his lips slide down to the base. It, unfortunately, doesn't last long. Noel gives him one last lick before sitting back.

 

“Can get used to that, me” Liam mumbles, sweat stuck in his eyebrows. Noel glares at him warningly before leaning over him, trying to get a hold of Liam’s backpack that’s thrown on the ﬂoor. Liam gets his belt buckle in the face and whines. “The fuck you doing?”

 

“Where’s the lotion?” Noel mumbles, rummages around in Liam’s bag, throwing out underwear and socks. Liam considers question the fact that Noel takes for granted that he brought some with him but realizes it’s not high on his list of priorities right now. He can see the outline of Noel’s cock through his jeans. That’s deﬁnitely higher up on the list.

 

“In the toilet bag, the small one”

 

“Fuck, I can’t ﬁnd it” Noel sounds childishly impatient and Liam pulls himself up on his arms.

 

“Give it here”

 

Liam pulls the small tube out and forces it into Noel’s hand.

 

“Get on the bed” his big brother commands while opening the tube. Liam ﬂops himself down on it and watches with his breath stuck in his throat as Noel opens his ﬂy and lubes his cock up. Suddenly Liam is ﬂipped over to his stomach with a hand pressing down between his shoulder blades. He breathes heavy in anticipation.

 

“Get your arse up for me, come on” Noel sees Liam’s ears burning red at that but he still get up on his knees.

 

Noel’s hand lands roughly on the younger’s pale skin. For a brief moment there’s a vague red handprint causing Noel’s breath to hitch notably and Liam turns his head around. Opens his mouth for a kiss. Noel chuckles and pushes his head down into the pillow, pulling tightly at his hair. Liam swears he’s gonna end up pulling the strands from his scalp.

 

“Forget about that”

 

Noel grabs the fabric off the tee in his ﬁst and exposes Liam’s arched back. Then he thrusts inside and Liam fumbles after his hand, closes his eyes. Noel is warm and Liam whimpers into the pillow from the dull pain. Noel fucks him hard into the mattress. Liam moans and gasps and squirms and ﬁsts the sheets like he doesn't know what to do with himself as Noel’s palm collides with his left asscheek once again.

 

“God, shut up”

 

Liam doesn't, so Noel shoves his ﬁngers into his mouth and Liam gags rather obscenely, saliva drooling down his chin and making a small puddle on the pillow under him. Noel pulls harder at the red fabric and hears the seam crack to which Liam mumbles something like ‘be careful with it, you fucker’, but it mostly sounds like wet nonsense since Noel’s ﬁngers are pressing at his tongue. He can’t really blame him.

 Noel’s ﬁngertips are rough and Liam licks at them the best he can, and he knows he would have Noel’s ﬁngers down his throat forever if it meant feeling like this. Noel leans down and he’s right by Liam’s ear.

 

“Do you want to take the picture now?”

 

“Fuck” is all Liam manages to get out because he’s fucking ﬂying with every deep stroke. Liam clenches as his muscles tense. Noel moans into his skin. He pulls out of him then. The sound makes Liam quiver. Noel’s hand is quite shaky when he groans Liam’s name and paints the red fabric with white stripes.

 Liam sits on the edge of the bathtub, rubbing frantically at the white stains from under the running tap. They don't seem to disappear and Liam thinks he might panic. Noel comes and stand leaning in the doorway, naked with a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth, hair tousled. Liam’s true deﬁnition of gorgeous. Except from the utterly self-satisﬁed smirk which is currently playing on his lips. He would beat that right off if he wasn’t this occupied.

 

“How are you going to explain that to Bonehead?” he asks and Liam doesn't bother to look up.

 

“Fuck off.”

 

“It’s prettier now though, isn't it?”

 

“Well, yeah.” Liam smiles.

 

As the lights go down over the city Liam falls asleep on Noel’s chest and on the ﬁfth ﬂoor of a hotel a red football shirt is hanging out the window to dry.

 

V

 

Liam can see Noel moving in the corner of his eye, hears him humming on a tune under his breath, smells his shaving cream in the air. He always feels the safest when Noel is just a bit away from him, in reach, near. A warm breeze ﬁnds its way into the room when Noel opens the window and Liam sits up in the bed.

 

“Morning, you mop”

 

“Give us a kiss”

 

“I bought some breakfast for your sleepy ass” Noel kisses him, to Liam’s surprise, and throws a paper bag with buns at him.

 

“Oh, also your ‘anniversary champagne’ has arrived” Noel chuckles and Liam studies the bottle.

 

“Save it, I’m dying for some ice cream, me”

 

Liam licks the melting melon ice cream from off his thumb. It’s sticky and sweet, just like the day. Noel has thick sunglasses on, taking bites of his strawberry cone. ‘Who the fuck bites their ice cream’, Liam thinks. He asks Noel with a smirk. He shrugs as a response.

 

“The shit tickles your teeth, man.” Liam scrunches up his face at the unpleasant thought.

 

“Only if you are a pussy.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“I want to go and look at touristy stuff”

 

“What does your brochures have to offer?”

 

“Louvre, that art place?”

 

“You want to go and look at art? Like a student?”

 

“Do you have a fucking better opinion, then?”

 

“There’s champagne waiting back in the room.”

 

“We can spend the whole fucking trip drinking inside, Noel.”

 

“Fine, we go and look at your paintings.”

 

Liam gives him a ice creamy kiss on the cheek.

 

They end up walking the streets to late. Liam holds a bag with a postcard of a DaVinci painting for mam. He can’t stop smiling. Eventually, the sky opens up and it starts to pour down. Liam laughs his tits off as they run through the rain. He ﬁnd himself thinking that everything goes so well and all is so very smooth and dreamy and the war is calm and quiet. Liam wants to stay in that spinning bubble until the end of time.

 

Noel sits down on the bed, wet hair in his eyes. Liam wants to sit down on his lap. Wants to rub himself against the damp denim and feel Noel growing harder under him, hearing his mufﬂed groans in his ear. Liam watches as Noel unbuttons his shirt, tilts his head. Noel might be the only person he has both loved and sucked off. And in Liam’s mind, that’s pretty special. He didn’t even need to try that hard now. Yeah, you might have top GCSEs and all, but can you take a 7,2 inch (Liam believes he’s got a good eye seeing measures out) cock down your throat without making the slightest sound? Didn’t think so. Noel grins is af he can read Liam’s mind and gestures for him to come closer.

 

Liam sits on Noel’s chest. He’s naked and in the room next to theirs someone plays French music that Liam has never heard before, but it ﬁts. The champagne lacks bubbles and tastes cheap, but Liam drowns a quarter of the bottle down without a single thought anyway. A drop ﬂows down over his chin and down his chest and he throws his head back just as it travels over his belly button. He wears his beret and he ﬂips his hair, back and forth, back and forth. When he opens his eyes, Noel looks straight into them because, how could he stop staring? They are fucking ﬁreworks, and there are dimples in his cheeks, and warmth in his veins, and he’s happy.

 

Liam puts the bottle down on the nightstand and Noel licks over his belly and up to his exposed nipples and he thinks the skin tastes like 12€ sweetness and arousal. A giggle escapes Liam’s mouth and Noel thinks it's a luxury to hear that sound as he bites down on Liam’s neck and his hands squeezes his warm thighs.

 

“Can you imagine we are about to shag in Paris, bloody Paris, Noelie” Liam mumbles and the beret has slid down his forehead, almost covering his eyes now. Noel can’t get his eyes to focus and Liam is all skin and a navy dot before him. He sees Liam’s white teeth shining. He suddenly feels a bit nauseous –  can’t put his ﬁnger on why at ﬁrst. Then it sort of hits him, that thing that he should’ve told Liam ages ago. That thing that he sort of promised himself not to do ever again because it almost hollowed the shining boy above him. Leaving. It has been crawling under his skin. It’s a bullet he must ﬁre at Liam and he closes his eyes.

 

“Mhm.” there’s something in his throat and Liam feels heavy against his chest. Liam keeps grinding and grinding, his hot mouth on Noel’s collarbones, but Noel doesn't even know if he’s hard.

 

“This is me losing my Paris-virginity.” Liam mumbles, sucks softly at Noel’s earlobe and opens his pants to take his cock out. Noel is about to say ‘Actually I’ve fucked you three times here already, you idiot’, but he doesn’t. He swallows.

 

“Yeah” he tries to laugh, he wants to, but it just comes out as a breathless sound and he grabs at Liam’s silky hair. It’s going to hurt him.

 

“Liam?”

 

Then he pulls the trigger with a deep breath.

 

“I’m gonna move to London.”

 

“What?” Liam is still smiling, eyes glazed over and nose wrinkled, but Noel sees how it slowly drains on him.

 

“To London.”

 

“Yeah, I heard I just-”

 

“Next month.”

 

Liam opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again.

 

“No.”

 

“I-”

 

“What the fuck.”

 

“You didn't think I would stay my whole life in tha-” Liam literally rips his hat off and throws it aside. It starts again inside him, the war. The ﬁrst part screams ‘Didn't I tell you?’ and tries to move his feet towards the door without having in mind that he has nowhere to go.

 

“Fuck you” he’s not yelling, no, his throat his numb and dry. But he wants to yell at him, wants to put his nails into Noel’s cheeks and claw at his face for being a dick. For leaving again and spoiling and spitting on such a beautiful moment. Instead, he just ﬂips himself over, landing with a defeated thump on the bedding. His cock still lays erect and leaking against his thigh. It all feels ridiculous.

 

“Liam.” Noel says in that same annoying, calm voice he always uses in moments like this and Liam wants to say he’s fucking stupid who thinks that a change of speech will solve this. Solve anything. Noel puts a hand on his shoulder, the other on his cheek. Liam turns his head the other way. It turns quiet, the music continues to play through the wall and Liam stares at the wallpaper.

 

“Why?”

 

“Stupid question”

 

“Everything’s there, you know, ﬁts me better”

 

“I fucking bet, with me safely at distance”

 

“Not everything is about you all the fucking time, Liam”

 

“I’m coming after you, you know”

 

“Of course you are”

 

“Won’t get rid of me that easily, you fuck”

 

“Did I ever say I wanted to?”

 

“No, but-”

 

“Exactly”

 

“Here, my french twat” Noel fetch the beret from of the ﬂoor and puts it on Liam’s chest.

 

“It’s not gonna be… It’s not, you know, like the last time”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“It’s just a couple of hours away. You will be there most of the time anyway, won’t you?”

 

Noel puts his forehead against Liams. Liam hums. Then he kisses him until he can’t feel his lips or his heavy heart anymore.

 

VI

 

They go out. The evening is tepid and Liam is preparing moving boxes in his mind. Noel expected it to feel less crowded inside his chest, but it doesn’t. It’s still hammering in there. Liam notices but doesn't say anything. They get some drinks and Liam brain becomes numb. When they walk home, it’s dark and Liam’s legs are weak. A couple walks before them, hand in hand. The girl is blonde in a jeans jacket and the guy beside her has a dark mop of hair on his head. Liam itches his nose and turns his gaze away when the thought that it looks like Noel and Louise crosses his mind. He glances over at Noel who’s looking the other way.

 

When Liam’s hand reaches for Noel’s, he moves it away, places it in his pocket. It burns in Liam’s chest and he watches the couple disappear around the corner.

 

The receptionist calls for Noel when they get back.

 

“Mr. Gallagher? There’s a call for you”

 

“What?” Liam frowns, feeling weird.

 

“You go up, I’m coming”

 

Liam leans against a pillar, tinkers with the bottom of his shirt as he listens to Noel’s voice. It’s stern at ﬁrst but then he chuckles and Liam’s chest tightens. He catches his own name and frowns, thinking it might be mam. He knows it’s not though. It’s her. He listens for too long. Noel ends the call in a way Liam doesn't want to hear. He races up the stairs with a thudding heart to get to the room before his brother does. Noel doesn't say anything when he arrives.

 

They stay up and eat crisps while looking at cars from the window. Liam counts all the red ones like in that game he and Noel used to play when they were kids. Liam always chose the red ones.

 

It’s quiet. Not the good kind of quiet. Liam can see that Noel thinks about something. He does as well. Doing that thing that’s called ‘putting two and two together’. Wonders how he could be so incredibly naive to believe Noel would actually plan a fucking trip to Paris just for him.

 

Sounds like a silly teenage dream. Noel mumbles that he’s going to take a shower. Liam stuffs his mouth with more chips.

 

Liam lays himself down on his stomach in the middle of the bed, mindlessly ﬂipping through the pages of his dictionary. The words dances before his eyes.

 

 _Frère_ means brother. _Amoureux_ means lover.

 

He can’t ﬁnd a word that stands for both. A word for what they are. He closes the book and throws it aside, burying his face in the pillow. He smells his own shampoo. He thinks about the phone call, about Noel’s hushed voice and about the words.

 

_I’m sorry. I wish you were here. I love you._

 

Sober, serious and out in the open. Liam feels impossibly jealous and ill as he buries his nails in the sheets. He hears his brother’s footsteps but doesn't bother to turn around. Noel comes up behind him on his knees, kisses Liam’s bare and deﬁned shoulder blade.

 

“What’s _fucking_ in french?” Noel murmurs against his skin, slips his hands inside Liam’s sweatpants and pulls until he’s bare over the knees. His hand slide up Liam’s thigh, nails scraping lightly over the skin

 

“Dunno.”

 

“You don’t want it?”

 

“You will just pretend I’m her”

 

The bubble pops. Liam can see how it breaks before his eyes as Noel’s laugh reaches his ears and he closes his eyes. The laugh stings. It lets Liam know that Noel is that unpleasant version of himself. Nil traces of softness.

 

“What did you say?” he asks. Liam knows that he heard. He pulls his pants back up and turns around, blowing his fringe away from his face.

 

“Stop laughing.”

 

“Can you just stop being so fucking-” Liam shots himself up from the bed, feels a vein beating hard in his forehead.

 

“Fucking what?”

 

“Ridiculous, insecure, since when are you so bloody self-conscious, eh?”

 

“I fucking hate you!”

 

“That’s the thanks one get for treating you with this whole trip, hell, I’ve paid for everything you have asked for, can you just be-”

 

“Don’t pull that, don’t you think I know I’m just the last resort”

 

“I’m not in the mood for this”

 

“I’m always the last resort. Fucking always!” Liam spits, throws himself at Noel aiming for his face because he wants him to feel this unbearable pain. Noel just pushes him off and Liam’s back hits the wall with a loud thud. He whimpers. His jacket is thrown over a chair next to him and he grabs it, heading towards the door. Out his mind screams, out, out, out.

 

“Where are you gonna go?”

 

“I don’t know… fucking somewhere that isn't here”

 

“Liam.”

 

“So what that it was meant for her from the start, eh? What do you expect from me?” Noel’s voice is raised and Liam hand stops by the handle.

 

“Just don't be so-”

 

“What do you want me to do? Buy you ﬂowers maybe? Have you on my arm instead of her? Don't you understand it’s not-”

 

“What?”

 

“Not right!”

 

“Fuck what’s right, this means something, yeah?” Liam excessively gestures to himself and then his brother. And the room around them Noel is silent.

 

“This means summat, at least to me.” Now he’s pointing at the golden chain that’s wrapped around his wrist. Noel raises his brows. He might as well have punched him in the gut Liam thinks.

 

“God, that doesn't really mean anything, does it? I was stoned when I gave it to-”

 

Liam turns around and walks out. Slamming the door shut behind him. It burns in his eyes, in his nose, in his heart and in his ﬁst which he would have preferred to have driven into Noel’s face. He waits for three breaths and Noel doesn’t come so he runs down the stairs.

 

It’s warm outside and the fucking birds are singing and if Liam bothered to turn his head up against the sky, he bet the clouds would be heart-shaped. He doesn't cry, but feels like it.

 

He walks over a bridge and stops at the railing. He unclasps the small lock with aggressively trembling ﬁngers. The golden chain feels cool against his skin as he holds it in his palm. Three years ago, when Noel gave it to him, it meant so fucking much. The ﬁrst morning Liam woke up with it around his wrist the room was ﬁlled with fragile sunlight. He remembers how he held it up over his face, saw the metal glitter from the beams of dusk and he knew that it meant that he was Noel’s. Liam clenches it in his palm, leaning over the damp railing. The water down there isn't glittering, it’s just an endless pitch of black.

 

It doesn’t really mean anything.

 

He tries to open his palm, to drop it, longing for the splash. The lump in his throat is suffocating.

 

There’s two hands on his shoulders, pulling him backwards. Liam knows it’s Noel, he would've recognized his hands anywhere. He spinned around and pinned to the railing.

 

Liam tells him to fuck off. Noel grabs his wrist. Liam squeezes his eyes shut and kicks at Noel’s legs like a monkey in panic, he doesn't want to listen to all the bullshit that’s ﬂowing from Noel’s mouth like dirty water.

 

“Look at me”

 

Liam kicks his shin.

 

“Look at m.e”

 

Noel’s forearm are pressing up against his throat and it burns terrible in his nose and he’s about to gasp that he can’t breathe when Noel pulls his hands away.

 

“Look at me, you dickhead!”

 

Liam opens his eyes. They are starting to get blurry.

 

“Don’t you fucking ever call yourself my last resort again, hear me?”

 

Liam thinks that Noel is about to punch him in the face but instead he cups it in his hands.

 

“I want you. Understand? You fucking idiot”

 

Liam starts crying. In the middle of the street, but Liam can't even give it a second thought because his nose is buried in the crook of Noel’s neck and Noel is clenching the fabric of his jacket.

 

Liam doesn't let go until they are back at the hotel.

 

He lets himself be laid down. Noel takes his clothes off until there’s only a piece of metal around his wrist and pulls the duvet up to Liam’s chin. He feels like he's ﬁve again. Like Noel is going to read the wind in the willows for him, even though his stuttering just because Liam wouldn't be able to sleep otherwise.

 

Noel’s presses his nose against Liam’s. The tip is cold but he can feel how they warm up together.

 

“Close your eyes.” Noel whispers. Liam grabs his hand.

 

He closes his eyes.


End file.
